


Reqiuem for a Dream

by Sa_kun



Series: Path Not Taken [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Gen Fic, Guardian-Ward Relationship, M/M, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-05-05
Updated: 2009-06-12
Packaged: 2017-10-19 22:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/205847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sa_kun/pseuds/Sa_kun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry Potter met Charlie Weasley the day Hagrid decided they should have a closer look at dragons.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_**#1 | Wonder, 012**_  
 **Title** : _Requiem for a Dream, I_  
 **Author** : [](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/profile)[**sa_kun**](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/)  
 **Pairing** : CWHP  
 **Rating** : T  
 **Summary** : Harry Potter met Charlie Weasley the day Hagrid decided they should have a closer look at dragons.  
 **Disclaimer** : I do not in any way own the Harry Potter Universe.  
 **Warnings** : AU, Homosexuality.  
 **Notes** : This is the first part of many -- seven or so. They are part of the [Path Not Taken](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/25995.html#cutid1) universe that I'm writing in response to my 100quills table. You don't really need to read it, you just need to know that Harry's Slytherin, adopted by Professor Snape and was abused by his relatives.

 **Wonder | 012**

“Ohh,” Harry breathed as he arrived early to Care of Magical Creatures one Monday morning in his Seventh Year. Because there, inside a newly constructed magical dome, were dragons. Baby dragons, Harry realised because they were rather small, but still. Dragons. He had never seen any properly before; the Muggle version obviously didn't count and—

“Damn you're early,” someone muttered through a yawn. “I'd pin you for a Ravenclaw, but there aren't any in the morning class.”

Harry turned around and registered freckles — lots of them and reddish auburn hair. Tilting his head to the side, he murmured, “I'll pin you as a Weasley.”

“Ah…well.” The Weasley grinned. “I'd give you one for that if it weren't so ridiculously easy—” Weasley narrowed his eyes, trying to find a name, and ended up with the House “—Slytherin.”

Harry nodded, then jerked a thumb back at the enclosure. “Dragons?” Weasley nodded, smiling widely and came to stand just next to Harry. “Are you the Weasley, then, that I was told to watch out for lest you send a dragon to eat me in my sleep?”

Weasley glanced sharply at him. “You’re Harry Potter?” Harry nodded. “Ah, yeah, then. I’m Charlie, by the way. Ron's a bloody moron, sometimes. Who in their right mind would even believe that dragons can be controlled?”

Harry smirked deviously. “I never thought Weasley _was_ in his right mind, so…”

Charlie cuffed him on the back of his head. Harry froze briefly, and then moved his head out of the way. Charlie glared mildly at him with twinkling eyes and Harry winked cheekily. “Has Hagrid told you anything about dragons?”

“Only that they are beauty incorporated,” Harry said wryly. “I guess, on one hand, that I can see what he means, but on the other…after that fiasco with the TriWizard Tournament… Not so much, no.”

“I never got that,” Charlie murmured. “I saw you fly the day before—”

“They weren't going to pull me out. I was _fourteen_ : Professor Snape said that it was madness and the Headmaster never even contemplated withdrawing me. Then when he said that we were automatically disqualified if we couldn't get the egg…”

 _He hadn't even been in the Great Hall when his name was spit out of the Goblet. There had been a particularly troublesome assignment in Ancient Runes, or Arthimancy_ — _yes, Arthimancy, he suddenly remembered_ — _and he had been stuck. It was beyond a smaller mountain of books and scrolls that Professor Snape had finally located him, ink smudges on his face and hands, a petulant glare on his face directed at his half finished essay._

 _“This is rubbish,” he'd sort of muttered, sort of whined, “I sucked at maths. I'm so dropping this incomprehensibly gibberish of a subject.”_

 _“All in good time,” Professor Snape had snapped and he glared darkly at Harry. “Your name was just pulled out of the Goblet of Fire.”_

 _Harry had laughed bitterly. “Yeah, right, sir. I'm not stupid.”_

 _But the Professor hadn't been amused. “Obviously,” he murmured in that dangerous, silky way._

“So,” Charlie said, changing the subject and pulling Harry back to the present. “Baby dragons more to your liking, then?”

Harry nodded with a faint smile on his face. He started as a hand was gently placed on the small of his back and urged him forward. “Hey, Weasley—”

“Shush, Potter. This is fun, trust me.” His eyes, full of mirth, were sparkling. Harry didn't trust him but he was curious and fascinated, and so he allowed Charlie to push him inside the dome of magic – felt it tickling and burning and then he was inside. Charlie's hand still on his back. “Can you tell me what they are?”

Harry bit his lip as he studied the dragons. The small brown and green camouflage coloured ones had to be Welsh Greens and the ones with dull, muted orange scales — sort of like leaves in autumn, were probably Chinese Fireballs. That left the last few, and… Harry wasn't really sure what they were, seeing as they were all a nondescript slate colour with hints of something darker and had…knobs their heads. “Welsh Green and Chinese Fireball, I think,” he said, pointing at a dragon of each. Charlie nodded. “And the last one…um, Antipodian Opaleye?” Charlie shook his head. “No? Um…that Swedish one?” Another head shake. “Uh, Iron…belly?”

“Not quite. Romanian Longhorn.”

Harry blinked. “But they are green! And they have horns, don't they?”

“Eventually. It's a defence mechanism: looking nondescript and melting in. And they're way too young; they're only a few months old. They don't grow horns until they are two, three years old or so.”

The hand was still resting on the small of his back and Harry abruptly realised that Charlie was standing a great deal closer than strictly necessary. He chose to blame it on the dragons, small as they were, but it made Harry feel better and less exposed and nervous.

“You have a Hogsmeade weekend now, don't you?”

Harry nodded. He chanced a quick glance at Charlie. Charlie who was staring at him and who had a gentle smile on his face. Harry quickly looked back at the dragons who finally seemed to have noticed them and were cautiously making their way over. “Yeah, on Saturday.”

“Haven't been there in years…”

Harry shrugged. “Not terribly exciting, is it? I mean, it looks the same as it did when I was thirteen.”

“I'm sure,” Charlie said dryly. Harry sucked in a breath, tensing up, as Charlie began moving his fingers – gently dragging them over a small space. It was almost as if he was opening and closing his hand. Harry suppressed the shiver the motion invoked and studiously refused to look away from the dragons. They were rather close now, merely seven or so metres away. “Slytherins in my days were always masters at subtlety, did you know?”

Harry shrugged. “We still are.”

“Really?”

A nod. “I'm a bit—” what had Severus called it? “—um, selectively dense?” Then, when he shouldn't be, but his insatiable curiosity spiked it, deceptively, perceptively attentive and noticed _everything_. Mostly when he had something to gain like a reward or when Severus tried to hide something, and he could make it easier for the man by cooking something extra tasty.

Charlie chuckled and the sound prompted Harry to turn his head again. Charlie’s eyes were gentle and warm and aimed at him; he noticed that much before he turned away again. “Potter?”

“Mmmm?” Harry edged a bit closer as the dragons began puffing smoke. “They won't—?”

“Oh, no. They're perfectly safe.” He shrugged. “Sort of, anyway. Feel like going to Hogsmeade with me on Saturday?”

Harry started and looked away from the dragons to meet Charlie's gaze. “You're staying that long?”

Two fingers were held up. “Two weeks.”

“Oh.” Harry pursed his lips — plenty of time to study dragons which sounded interesting as well as fun. “Okay, then. But weren't you going anyway?”

It _had_ been a while since Harry last went. Middle of Sixth Year, January, he thought, with a Slytherin who'd actually tolerated him in the Year above. He'd graduated by now, though.

Charlie laughed. “Oh, Potter…”

“What?” Harry crossed his arms, an eyebrow raised, ready to go into defensive mode.

“I'm asking you on a date.”

Harry blinked. “Oh,” he said softly. “But why would you do that?” Charlie just smiled and Harry blinked again, feeling very bewildered, as something twirling and twittering took up residence in his stomach.

-x-

Harry was sucking on his bottom lip. He fidgeted with his Slytherin scarf as he stood just outside the Entrance Hall, on the stairs, waiting for Charlie. He wasn't exactly nervous – rather numb in fact – but he had never been on a 'date' before and he had no way of knowing what was expected, or much less if there were any rules about conduct you had to obey.

Last night — Harry wanted to wince just thinking about it — he had been such a…bother. Flitting about the Professor's private quarters, talking about nonsense and never shutting up, baking bread and cleaning obsessively… _God_ , he felt rather ashamed. Still, Harry noted, Severus had looked rather amused this morning, when he had suggested that Harry wear something other than his school clothes.

Harry had thought that was a terrific idea and whirled back inside his small room and found something more comfortable.

“Morning, Potter.”

Harry started and looked up, then a shy smile forced its way to his face. “Hi, Weasley.”

“I'm not late, am I?”

Harry frowned, then fumbled back the sleeve of his robe, only to realise he had forgotten his watch. “Hmmm, dunno,” he muttered, lips pursed. “I'm quite certain the time's the same now as it was yesterday at this hour.”

“Yeah,” Charlie agreed, lowering Harry's arm. “I'm quite sure you're right. Did you have breakfast?”

“Wasn't hungry. Professor Snape made me drink a potion.”

“Did he now?”

Harry grimaced. “Oh, yeah, he has a nasty habit of doing that…”

Laughing, Charlie said, “Let’s go, then. We can have breakfast at the Three Broomsticks.” Harry flinched as he slipped an arm over his shoulders, but Charlie just tugged him closer. “Come on, Potter, let's have fun.”

-x-

“Be a nine days' wonder,” someone muttered; that nasty, internal voice that had belittled him since childhood. Harry refused to listen it. He _wouldn't_ , _refused_ to. Charlie…Charlie Weasley didn't seem to care that he was a Slytherin or that his youngest brother and sister resented and disliked him. He didn't seem to care that Harry was emotionally retarded and tended to flinch and startle at the smallest of things. He didn't care that Harry first tensed every time he was touched, only to relax when Charlie said something, or did something that made Harry remember where he was, and who he was with.

-x-

[Next >>>](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/45900.html)   



	2. #2 | Ice, 011

_**#2 | Ice, 011**_  
 **Title** : _Requiem for a Dream, II_  
 **Author** : [](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/profile)[**sa_kun**](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/)  
 **Pairing** : CWHP  
 **Rating** : T  
 **Summary** : Harry Potter met Charlie Weasley the day Hagrid decided they should have a closer look at dragons.  
 **Disclaimer** : I do not in any way own the Harry Potter Universe.  
 **Warnings** : AU, Homosexuality.  
 **Notes** : This is the second part of many -- seven or so. They are part of the [Path Not Taken](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/25995.html#cutid1) universe that I'm writing in response to my 100quills table. You don't really need to read it, you just need to know that Harry's Slytherin, adopted by Professor Snape and was abused by his relatives.

[I](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/45576.html) | II

  
**Ice | 011**   


Bundled up thickly and standing absolutely still, Harry once again questioned the wisdom of ice-skating. Alone, like always, Harry shuffled back and leaned against the tree he was standing under. On the ice, Granger and the Girl-Weasley had teamed up against Boy-Weasley and another girl. Harry thought it might be Luna Lovegood; the hair was certainly both long and fair enough. It was hard to be sure from this distance, though. Luna, he found, was a fairly…peculiar girl and he never quite knew what to say to her whenever she struck up a conversation with him. He never really knew if he was required to answer or not, never mind if he was even a _participant_ …

This year, this last of Harry's years at Hogwarts, his guardian had been assigned 'Holiday Watch'. Bitterly, Harry wondered if this was the Headmaster's idea of a joke. It certainly wasn't amusing. Harry wanted to spend Christmas at home, with just him and Severus. Then, on Boxing Day, with Remus and Sirius and – if Harry was really lucky – Severus would be in an agreeable mood and join them. Usually this took place in Remus' cottage, but they had been at Sirius' flat once.

Not this time though. Oh, sure, Christmas Eve and Day would be like normal, even if they were at Hogwarts, but this year, even if Severus _was_ in an agreeable mood, he wouldn't be permitted to leave school grounds.

He briefly entertained the notion of inviting Sirius and Remus over instead.

Cold hands were suddenly held over his eyes and Harry startled badly, jumping away and twirling around, whipping his wand out in the process and staring wildly at the person standing, quite nonchalantly, there.

“Ah,” Charlie said, smiling sheepishly despite the blunt tip of Harry’s wand digging into his throat, “guess who?”

Harry resisted a glare and rolled his eyes instead, but he slipped his wand back up his sleeve. “Bloody moron. What're you doing here?”

Charlie gazed at him, eyes bright and warm and Harry barely managed not to squirm. “Do I need a reason, Harry?”

Harry shrugged.

Charlie hugged him. “It's Christmas, prat, why would I need a reason?”

Harry stood stiffly in the embrace, before slowly gathering up the courage to raise his hands and clutch the back of Charlie's coat. His voice was quiet, he murmured, “I just don't understand—”

“Stop selling yourself short, Harry.” Charlie almost glared. He kissed Harry briefly and Harry hesitantly returned the soft kiss, still so new at it, even after three months.

 _Especially_ after three months.

“Actually, Harry, I did have a reason for coming over.”

“Okay.”

“How…would you like to come to London with me? It'd just be the two of us and I figured we might…spend the night?”

Apprehension and delight, suspicion and excitement, dread and affection, fear and joy…Harry nervously began biting on his bottom lip. “…separate beds,” he finally whispered.

“ _Sep_ — Harry—”

“No,” Harry said softly. “I know. I…it's…touch never meant anything good. It's…hard. Rethinking. Two beds, fine, and I can delude myself. Besides…” Harry rolled his eyes. “I rather think Professor Snape'll insist on that part.”

Charlie mock cursed. “Why do I always forget about him?”

“'Cause he's so nondescript, no doubt,” Harry drawled. “Melts in so _spectacularly_ with his surroundings.” Charlie snorted, but his eyes were twinkling.

“Come on” he said suddenly, gripping Harry's wrist and tugging. Harry reluctantly followed, then stopped abruptly as he saw the ice again and the direction they were heading in registered with him.

“No,” Harry said, “I—”

“It's fun,” Charlie countered, his eyes saying something completely different. _I won't let you fall_.

“…I hate people laughing at me,” he mumbled, glancing at the Gryffindors on the ice, two of which were Charlie's family. “I hate falling.”

“I'll kiss it better,” Charlie promised and waved his wand. He muttered an incantation under his breath.

Harry wobbled dangerously as his boots changed to ice-skates. He grabbed onto an equally unbalanced Charlie for support. Two seconds later they were lying in an ungainly pile in the thick snow.

“Damn it, Charlie,” Harry groused when the man began laughing. “Not funny.” Getting up on his hands and knees, he awkwardly pushed himself up on his feet. Then he patiently stood absolutely still and waited for Charlie. Awkwardly, he allowed himself to be led onto the ice. The slippery, hard ice, and Harry's legs quaked. He waved his arms to keep standing, only serving in making him lose his balance more quickly. “Charlie—!”

“Calm down, Harry,” Charlie murmured in his hair, hands on his waist. Harry wasn't quite sure where he'd come from. “I said I wouldn't let you fall, didn't I? How come you've never done this before?” He nudged Harry forwards. “Move your legs, okay?”

Harry bit his lip, arms held out at an awkward angle at his sides, waving slightly. But he did move. Sort of. Jerkily. “…who'd take me?”

Charlie sighed inaudibly, once again silently questioning Harry's childhood and whoever it was that had taken care of him. Or not, as the case most often seemed to be. What kind of parent didn't take their kid ice-skating in the winter? Didn't…touch their child? With forced joviality, but not really once the humour of his statement set in, he said, “How about your guardian?”

Harry stilled. “Severus? I…” Harry chuckled. “He's the world's most uncoordinated person, you know?”

Charlie stopped skating and for a moment they were just sliding. “Really?”

Harry nodded. “You should see him in the mornings, stumbling…cursing the furniture, fumbling with plates and cups, dropping them… And, of course, if you ever tell anyone he shall be forced to end your pitiful existence.”

“Of course.” Charlie grinned. He squeezed Harry's waist and urged him forwards. “Skate, wonder boy.”

Harry lifted his left foot and began his ungainly glide once again, arms thrust out to help him keep his precarious balance. Charlie helped a lot, Harry thought, pushing him and holding him upright. Of course, that didn't help very much when the tip of Harry's ice-skate stuck in a small fissure. Crying out as he suddenly couldn't bring his foot forward, he overbalanced. Harry waved his arms about and collided painfully with the hard ice. He let out a muffled curse as a weight settled on top of him, briefly, before rolling off to the side.

“Damnit, Charlie—”

“Oi!”

Harry lifted himself up on all four and glared at the source of the offending yell. “What, Weasley?”

“ _Potter_!? Get the fuck away from—” Weasley suddenly paled and he snapped his mouth shut. Charlie was just one of those brothers you didn't mess with when he was glaring. Retribution came swift and was often very painful.

“Good boy,” Charlie muttered as he regained his footing. Harry remained on the ice, standing on his rapidly cooling knees and shins. “Harry—”

“I'm fine.”

Charlie shook his head and sighed, then bent down and grasped Harry under his armpits. “Come on.”

With a petulant glare on his face, Harry allowed himself to be pulled up right, only to almost immediately lost his footing again as his skates slipped and slid on the slippery ice. “Hey—!” Charlie steadied him. Harry clutched the man's arm tightly. “Just get me off the bloody ice, Charlie.”

“Can't skate, Potter?” Ah, and there was Granger, pointing out the obvious. Harry glared.

“Your command of the obvious is bloody marvellous,” he muttered, but it was only Charlie who heard him. The man stifled his laughter by coughing and clearing his throat. Harry grinned smugly.

“I find that it helps, you know,” Luna said airily, smiling her hooded smile, “if you dispel the Gnargles.”

Harry snorted. “Yeah,” he muttered, “I'm sure that's plenty helpful.”

Luna nodded. “My mother used to do that, when I was little, before she died.”

Charlie made to let go and Harry wobbled dangerously. “Damn it, Charlie! This was your bloody idea—”

“Just stand still, Harry, I'll be right back.”

“Charlie!”

Charlie flashed him a smile, then grabbed Weasley by the arm and skated away. Towards Girl-Weasley. Harry glared at his back.

“So, Potter,” Harry turned his head, and the tiny motion was enough for him to lose his balance all over again and he toppled over, backwards this time, and landed hard on his behind with a mighty whoosh. “Potter—!”

Harry winced, then let out a defeated sigh and simply lay down on the ice. “Yes, Granger?”

“…you're really terrible at this.”

“That, Granger, I thought we had already established. Was there something you wanted?”

There was silence for a few seconds. Harry assumed she was gathering her thoughts and figuring out what to say. “The assignment Professor Snape handed out before the Holiday began—”

“I don't know, Granger.”

When Granger leaned over him she was frowning. “Doesn't he help you?”

“Why would he?”

“But…I thought he was your guardian or something?”

Harry nodded. “He is. But that doesn't mean he'll help me with the assignments he hands out.” Harry smirked faintly. “Though I do know which books he uses, so I guess I do have a slight advantage. But if you truly want help, ask either Blaise or Draco.”

Granger grimaced, and Harry chuckled faintly. Of course, Harry knew just as well as she did that neither of them would ever lift a hand to assist her in any way.

“That must be terribly cold.”

Harry shifted his eyes away from Granger and raised an eyebrow at Charlie. “However did you come to that brilliant conclusion?” He raised his arms in the air. “Get me up and away, Charlie.”

“Off, too?” Charlie murmured mischievously and had the pleasure of seeing Harry's cheeks redden a bit further.

“Bastard,” Harry muttered, keeping his hold of Charlie's hands even once he was upright and standing somewhat steadily on the ice. Then Charlie began skating backwards and Harry's eyes widened. “H-hey!”

“Just relax, Harry, and go with that instinct of yours.”

“Oh,” Harry said dangerously, “you mean the one that's telling me to curse you halfway through next week?”

Charlie merely laughed, his eyes twinkling with joy.

-x-

“Severus? Hello?” Harry called, poking his head through the doorway leading to the man's personal laboratory, then walked to his bedroom. Both were empty and dark. Shrugging, Harry walked back to the living room, where Charlie had made himself comfortable on the worn couch. “By the lack of activity, I gather he's out and about.”

“…'out and about'?”

Lips pursed and expression somewhat careless, Harry sat down, a fair distance away from Charlie, and stretched his legs out. “Oh, you know, frightening children and slaying lesser beings.” Charlie blinked and gave him a weird look. Harry grinned impishly. “He's probably with Remus.”

“The werewolf teacher he _outed_?”

Harry nodded. “Mmmm. They get along. It was either Severus who had to do it, or the Seventh Year Slytherins and Ravenclaws would have done something decidedly…nasty.” He stiffened when Charlie placed an arm around his shoulders, but he didn't move away, only turned his head to give Charlie a wary look. Charlie returned it, only his look was mischievous and caring. A hand squeezed his shoulder, so Harry slowly relaxed.

Then fingers were closing around his chin and tilting his head up. “Oi—!”

“Shut up.”

Harry glared. Moments later, his eyes were fluttering close. “Mmmm;” _that was nice…_

It was a simple kiss, really, just a peck. Chaste. And again, lips warmer and moister and Harry brought a hand up to cup the back of Charlie's head. Lips slowly opening and just the faintest hint of tongue, but this time, unlike the first time when Charlie had instigated _that kind of kiss_ , Harry didn't flinch or shy away. He just moaned breathlessly and allowed himself to be taught all over again. He had always prided himself on being a diligent learner.

He never heard the door open and close, or the muted voices from the antechamber. All that existed in his world at that moment was Charlie. Charlie with thick hair that Harry could grip onto. Full, warm lips and a hot tongue, touching wonderfully with his own. His strong hands, gently stroking his neck and holding onto a shoulder. Charlie, who was pressing him back into the couch. Consequently, when they were abruptly torn apart by a wordless spell, Harry was very surprised. “Hey—! Oh shit.”

Severus was glaring darkly at him, arms crossed, wand in hand and looking rather impatient. _Thoroughly_ impatient. “Harry,” he said darkly, voice clipped, “we have rules.”

“No Weasleys?”

If possible, Severus' eyes darkened even further. “No wet clothes on the furniture,” he snapped, waving his wand and Harry yelped; his robe vanished and his clothes abruptly heated. “Come,” he barked and Harry scrambled from the couch, following the man into his study.

“Sir—”

“Be silent, Harry.” Harry bit his lip, awkwardly standing in front of the man. “I realise we never had this conversation.”

Harry frowned, then flushed hotly. “Oh.”

“You were fourteen, correct? When you obtained that…book?” Harry nodded. “Out of…?”

Harry bit his lip. “I…I was confused. I had always thought gays were…horrible and wrong, you know? Because…because Dudley and them always called me pansy and stuff? I just figured it had to be something _really_ bad, but then Remus said…” Harry trailed off. Damn, he hadn't intended to tell Severus that.

“Yes, Harry?”

“I asked why Sirius hated you.”

Severus stilled. “I see.”

“So I was just confused. But then I read up on it, and Remus would talk to me, sometimes.”

Severus swallowed, deciding that whatever Remus and Harry spoke about, it would have to do, because he was not about to go into details with a seventeen year old. “Charlie is much older than you.” Perhaps not in years, but certainly in experience.

Harry merely nodded. “…I know. But he's…kind. And…and he's patient, and he doesn't ask questions, and he says…” Harry looked away, only continuing when he felt Severus' hands on his shoulders. “…he says I'm selling myself short, that I'm great and wonderful and stuff like that, and…and I like it. I really like him. He…asked me to go to London with him.”

“Absolutely not.”

At once, Harry raised his head, his eyes flashing hotly. “Why the bloody hell not?!”

When Severus smirked, Harry realised he'd been played. Again. “It is somewhat refreshing to see you act like a teenager, for once.”

“I can go?”

Severus inclined his head. “I must insist on separate beds, I'm afraid, lest the Headmaster flays me.”

There was a knock on the door. “Enter.”

Charlie poked his head inside. “Sir—”

“Make sure Harry is packed within an hour.”

“Severus—”

“I shall be joining you.” He glared mildly at Harry. “Remus has requested my input in a bargain.”

“Oh, come now, Severus!” the man in question called from behind Charlie, “it was your idea!”

“Oh, do be quiet, wolf!”

-x-

[Next >>>](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/46221.html)   
**  
**


	3. #interlude | destiny, 005

_**#interlude | destiny, 005**_  
 **Title** : _Requiem for a Dream, interlude_  
 **Author** : [](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/profile)[**sa_kun**](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/)  
 **Pairing** : CWHP  
 **Rating** : T  
 **Summary** : Harry Potter met Charlie Weasley the day Hagrid decided they should have a closer look at dragons.  
 **Disclaimer** : I do not in any way own the Harry Potter Universe.  
 **Warnings** : AU, Homosexuality.  
 **Notes** : This is the second part of many -- seven or so. They are part of the [Path Not Taken](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/25995.html#cutid1) universe that I'm writing in response to my 100quills table. You don't really need to read it, you just need to know that Harry's Slytherin, adopted by Professor Snape and was abused by his relatives.

[I](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/45576.html) | [II](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/45900.html) | _interlude_ | III

 **  
Destiny | 005  
**

“Potter!”

Harry crosses his arms and glares at Girl-Weasley and Weasley. “Yes?”

“Would it kill you to be polite?” Girl-Weasley hisses.

It nearly did, once upon a time, but he doesn’t tell her this and Harry settles for shaking his head. “Would it kill you?”

“Probably not,” she concedes. Weasley remains quiet and stares at him with narrowed eyes. “When did you meet Charlie?”

Harry raises an eyebrow. “How about when he was here?”

“But that’s against the law!” Granger suddenly interrupts. Harry isn’t sure how he could possibly have failed to notice her presence. “Professors aren’t allowed to—”

“I know, Granger. But then, he wasn’t a Professor, was he? Tames dragons, doesn’t he?” The Weasleys nod. Harry smiles. “It’s quite attractive, really. The whole Dragon-Taming-Business.”

Ron flushes and bursts, “you just want him for his body, Potter! If you don’t love him—”

Harry rolls his eyes. “You are such Gryffindors. Love? Truly?”

“I saw the way you looked at the Twins and now you’re trying to get inside Charlie’s—”

“Yeah,” Harry interrupts, voice heavily laced with sarcasm, “‘Cause it’s my bloody destiny to shag Weasleys! Get off your high horse, Weasley, and smell the coffee! If not for me, then at least do the courtesy of giving your brothers _some_ credibility.” Harry shakes his head. Then he abruptly turns around and stalks off.

He grins as he hear Weasley and Girl-Weasley question his sanity as they wonder what horse he was talking about, and why would they go around sniffing coffee? Especially while on a horse walking on stilts and could horses really do that?

-x-

 _Charlie_ , he begins. He bites at the tip of his feathered quill, then continues, _may I please do you the courtesy of ridding yourself (and family)of the baby pests?_

 _Yours,_

 _Harry._

It’s a shabby letter at best, but it will have to do.

Charlie, Harry’s sure, will appreciate the gesture. He always does. Last time, his reply was written on a colourful postcard with a moving dragon setting fire to a village (the one depicting a snake wrapping itself around a purring cat is framed on Severus’ mantelpiece).

 _Harry_ , Charlie writes, _don’t strain yourself. Bill’s been working on it for ages._

 _Love,_

 _Charlie._

There is a rainbow on the postcard and a leprechaun is merrily sliding down on it.

-x-

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	4. #3 | warmth, 039

_**#3 | warmth, 039**_  
 **Title** : _Requiem for a Dream, III_  
 **Author** : [](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/profile)[**sa_kun**](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/)  
 **Pairing** : CWHP  
 **Rating** : M  
 **Summary** : Harry Potter met Charlie Weasley the day Hagrid decided they should have a closer look at dragons.  
 **Disclaimer** : I do not in any way own the Harry Potter Universe.  
 **Warnings** : AU, Homosexuality. **SEX**.  
 **Notes** : This is the third part of many -- seven or so. They are part of the [Path Not Taken](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/25995.html#cutid1) universe that I'm writing in response to my 100quills table. You don't really need to read it, you just need to know that Harry's Slytherin, adopted by Professor Snape and was abused by his relatives.

[I](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/45576.html) | [II](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/45900.html) | [_interlude_](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/46221.html)| III

He hadn't known what he agreed to, that first time – well, yes, he had known but not _known_. Charlie had been warm and charming, that easy-going smile spread across his face that put emphasis on those dimples that Harry found irresistible and his eyes had been earnest and warm.

The kisses hadn't been that much different. Not at first, no, not initially. They had been hot and warm and wet – breathtaking – and Harry had been grinning and sucking in small puffs of air at every available moment. Just like Charlie had been smiling and laughing right there with him. Had clutched at Charlie's hair, pulled him closer and tried to figure out how to get _more_ when all of a sudden – a kick in the stomach and a rush of heat – the hand that Charlie had slid up under his shirt had slid _down_ and was stroking his hip.

Then there wasn’t so much laughter any more.

Harry had frozen quite spectacularly. It was warm, yes, and the fire coiled in his stomach was spreading, yes. Lower. Tingling. The heavy, heady sensation _down there_ was growing and Harry realised quite abruptly that it wasn't just because of the kisses that he couldn't seem to breathe quite the way he was used to.

“Charlie,” he breathed.

Charlie stilled, mouth burning hot on the soft skin of Harry's throat. “Too much?”

Harry shook his head. “Yes. No. I— _ooh_ …nice. Can I?”

Charlie chuckled, nipping and tonguing Harry's Adam's apple. “What?”

“I…” Harry swallowed thickly. Indecisively, he let go of Charlie's hair. His hands hovered in the air above the man.

“Anywhere you want— _yes_ ,” he hissed. “Nice.”

Harry smiled, cheeks flushed, and squeezed Charlie's shapely backside again. Then, “Does it bother you?” he asked quietly.

“What?”

“That…that I don't know anything?”

Charlie paused and raised himself up so that they could easily look each other in the eye. “Harry,” he murmured, “Honestly…I find it kinda…exhilarating. That I'm the only one who's ever seen you like this… Flushed and delirious, so fucking gorgeous, Harry, and sexy—” Harry kissed him. When Charlie went for his belt and the buttons of his trousers, Harry didn't protest and instead sighed. Then, when Charlie reached behind himself for one of Harry's hands and pulled it around, dragged it down and around and placed it on the opening of _his_ trousers, Harry groaned.

He didn't, though. He didn't undo them. There was something else he had to do first. Something he had wanted to do much longer…

“ _Fuck_ , Harry,” Charlie hissed as Harry's strangely cold hands brushed against the skin of his chest, pushing up a tattered cardigan and a washed-out short sleeved shirt so he could _touch_ and _explore_. “Wait, wait – stop,” he muttered. Harry froze. Half a second later he was staring, breathing faster and even more shallower as _he pulled them off._ The shirts. Charlie pulled them _off_. And he was shirtless, now. Shirtless and so fucking sexy, and his chest was so broad and muscular; the muscles and the freckles – dear fucking _God_! The freckles – and Harry moaned. “Okay?”

Harry glared, green eyes intense and burning and Charlie licked his lips. His swollen, kissable lips. “Shut up, bloody idiot! _Kiss me_ , dammit – mmm, yes…” His fingers scrabbled across the freckled, taut back. He hissed, gasping, as his own shirt was suddenly unbuttoned and their chests were touching and his breath caught, and _Charlie_ was muttering something about Merlin and God and his hands were everywhere – fingering, pulling and rubbing his nipples and Harry almost cried out, then groaned and reflexively thrust his hips and then he did cry out, because the friction and the heat and the tightness and oh, God, what was Charlie doing? “Ah…Char…Char…” He wanted to explain. To tell him, more, and yes, yes, he liked it but he couldn't make his mouth and tongue and lips form words. He could only kiss and bite and lick Charlie's neck and shoulders.

“Yes…” Charlie moaned, thrusting his hips _down. Hard_. “So fucking gorgeous, Harry…so hot, hot…” Harry's head was swimming and he was so light-headed and God, surely Charlie wasn't – fuck, yes! – he was, _finally_ , and Harry moaned then impatiently reached down between their bodies, back to where Charlie had guided them before and fumbled with the buttons and the belt and he cursed Charlie for being such a bloody idiot when he got dressed that morning and why the hell wasn't he more cooperative and chose clothes that fell apart and bared him when Harry wanted them to?

When he finally got them undone, the trousers, and the heat became more profound, as did the trembling of Charlie's hips, Harry paused.

“Harry,” he whispered.

“I know. It's…all right, isn't it?”

Charlie nodded. His hips twitched. “Yeah,” he said shakily and Harry felt better, knowing that he wasn't the only one affected by this. Not the only one who was out of control and about to…explode.

Swallowing nervously, he reached inside Charlie's trousers and curled his fingers around the hardness within the pants. So like his own. So bloody foreign and hotter and harder and Harry couldn't help but moan. “Inside,” Charlie hissed, urged, and Harry couldn't help but obey. Not when Charlie's large, calloused, _hot_ hands were inside his pants on his hard, flushed cock, pulling and rubbing and Harry was crying out, head thrown back and eyes squeezed shut because that was too much and surely Charlie wasn't expecting him to be able to handle so much pleasure and oh God, his hand was sticky and Charlie was cursing and Harry _squeezed_.

[Next >>>](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/50522.html)   



	5. #4 | gentle, 007

_**#4 | gentle, 007**_  
 **Title** : _Requiem for a Dream, IV_  
 **Author** : [](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/profile)[**sa_kun**](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/)  
 **Pairing** : CWHP  
 **Rating** : M  
 **Summary** : Harry Potter met Charlie Weasley the day Hagrid decided they should have a closer look at dragons.  
 **Disclaimer** : I do not in any way own the Harry Potter Universe.  
 **Warnings** : AU, Homosexuality.  
 **Notes** : This is the fourth part of many -- seven or so. They are part of the [Path Not Taken](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/25995.html#cutid1) universe that I'm writing in response to my 100quills table. You don't really need to read it, you just need to know that Harry's Slytherin, adopted by Professor Snape and was abused by his relatives.

[I](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/45576.html) | [II](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/45900.html) | [_interlude_](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/46221.html)| [III](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/46582.html) | IV |

“I don't, though,” Harry murmured, unable to meet the bright eyes.

“Harry?”

“I...I don't trust you.”

To his credit, Charlie didn't look very surprised, but he was still hurt, even Harry could tell that. “Yeah...yeah,” he sighed, “I know, Harry.”

“I'm sorry.”

“Don't be, mate.”

Harry flinched a little, just like he did every time Charlie used a friendly word, or a gentleword, or an endearment. Eyes like a deer caught in headlights filled with wariness and fear. Then his eyes would narrow with suspicion and distrust, and Charlie slung an amicable arm around the boy's shoulders, who flinched again, and tugged him closer.

“Look, Harry, I really like you. I think you're smart and gorgeous. You have a wonderful sense of humour and a great laugh.”

Harry almost flushed, but then he paled abruptly instead and tore himself away. “You're leaving,” he said, accusingly.

Charlie frowned, then nodded. “I'm going back to Romania. I told you, didn't I?”

“Yes, yes,” Harry snapped. “That's not what I meant.”

Charlie's face was the perfect picture of bemusement. Harry could tell the exact moment he understood, because suddenly the freckles stood out in stark contrast – which they never did – and Harry unconsciously took an apprehensive step back as Charlie suddenly looked...angry. “You're a daft idiot, you know that, Potter?”

Harry flinched.

“For fuck's sake, Harry! Were you not there last night?”

“I, um...” Harry's face was horribly red, he knew. But last night...and Charlie's rough hands had been so bloody _perfect_... “You...you meant that? You weren't just saying that? You know, bedding the Boy-Who-Lived?”

“ _No_! No, no, Harry...Merlin...are all Slytherins this difficult?” Harry shrugged. Charlie hugged him and sighed, “Why do you always do that?”

“Charlie?”

“Flinch. Startle. Shy away...I wouldn't hurt you.”

“I...know. But...old habits die hard. Growing up...if I didn't duck fast enough, run fast enough...” Charlie stilled, his shoulders slowly lowering and tensing. Harry nervously wet his lips, wondering if perhaps he shouldn't have said anything. “Charlie?”

[Next >>>](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/50837.html)   



	6. #5 | friends, 026

_**#5 | friends, 026**_  
 **Title** : _Requiem for a Dream, V_  
 **Author** : [](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/profile)[**sa_kun**](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/)  
 **Pairing** : CWHP  
 **Rating** : M  
 **Summary** : Harry Potter met Charlie Weasley the day Hagrid decided they should have a closer look at dragons.  
 **Disclaimer** : I do not in any way own the Harry Potter Universe.  
 **Warnings** : AU, Homosexuality.  
 **Notes** : This is the fifth part of many -- seven or so. They are part of the [Path Not Taken](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/25995.html#cutid1) universe that I'm writing in response to my 100quills table. You don't really need to read it, you just need to know that Harry's Slytherin, adopted by Professor Snape and was abused by his relatives.

[I](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/45576.html) | [II](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/45900.html) | [_interlude_](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/46221.html)| [III](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/46582.html) | [IV](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/50522.html) | V |

He had an iron grip on Charlie's hand that he was adamantly refusing to let go of. Charlie had lost count of how many times he'd said it, but he still repeated it, “We don't _have_ to do this now, Harry.”

Again, Harry glared at him and huffed. “Yes, Charlie, we do.”

“You don't look terribly enthusiastic about it.”

“Well,” Harry said snappishly, “I don't have parents, now, do I?”

“I reckon that Professor of yours has done a fine job,” Charlie murmured, and Harry froze, eyes wide.

“…what do you mean?”

Charlie blinked. “Hmmm?”

“Why…what did you mean? Severus…?”

“He's taken care of you, hasn't he? Looked out for you and made sure you were all right? Then… Don't you always look to him for approval and acceptance? Want to please him and him to be proud of you, and stuff like that?” Bewildered, Harry nodded. “There you go then,” Charlie said gently, “that's the gist of what parents are all about.”

“Oh…”

Charlie smiled. “Don't worry about it, mate. Mum's generally very nice, and you're sure to pull several of her maternal instincts. She'll take to you immediately and Dad's not that fussy.”

“Weasley hates me. Ron, I mean, and the girl really dislikes me. The Twins…they liked to prank me, but…”

“Harry?”

“I…I thought they were bullying me, back in First Year, and I think they understood that, because one day they suddenly decided to stand up for me to these Ravenclaws who thought it was fun to take my glasses and levitate them around and see what I'd do to get them back. After that, they mostly let me be, and if they pranked me again…they tried to make me laugh about it, you know?”

Charlie nodded. “Yeah, I do know. They've always had a bit of a…strange attitude to bullying.” Harry frowned. “They practically terrorised Ron when they were smaller, but then they beat anyone else who dared do to make fun of him up. But let's not dwell on the past.”

“No, Charlie,” Harry drawled, “let's go meet your parents just so that you can have a date on your brother's bloody wedding. _Tomorrow_.”

Grinning a wide, roguish grin, Charlie winked and raised his hand.

“No—”

 _Knock_.

“Charlie, I—”

“Hi, Mum.”

Harry froze, then fixed a weak smile on his face. “Hello, Mrs Weasley.”

Mrs Weasley blinked, looking between them, seeing the locked hands and Charlie's amused and mischievous expression… “Oh, Charlie, my boy!” She wrapped him up in a hug. “I'm so glad you finally brought him home!”

Pulling back, she moved to hug Harry, and Harry, eyes wide and wary, jumped out of the way. Charlie frowned. “Harry?”

Harry jerked his hand out, trembling faintly. “Nice to meet you, Mrs Weasley.”

She huffed, but shook the outstretched hand. “Honestly,” she muttered, “I told Albus it was a bad idea, leaving you with those awful Muggles.” Then she smiled again. “It’s so good to finally meet you, Harry dear. Charlie has been so close-mouthed about you, and Ron rarely has a good word to say about you, and Ginny is no better. Fred and George…” Mrs Weasley rolled her eyes affectionately. “Oh, well. Come in, come in!”

-x-

Harry stayed back for most of the reception, exchanging a few words with Viktor, saluting an absolutely radiant Fleur, exchanging the most incomprehensible conversation to date with Mr Weasley and drinking a few glasses too many of orange juice, but, damn, he had missed orange juice.

“Like that, do you?”

Harry looked up, then nodded. Granger was smiling somewhat stiffly at him. He nodded. “Mmmm. Primary school, you know?”

“Pri— right. I forget, sometimes.”

“I don't,” he murmured, and took another sip. The nurse in Primary school used to give him a glass every time he ended up in her care. The only one who had never treated him differently and instead been thoroughly professional.

Granger remained a little longer, shifting awkwardly before excusing herself. Harry watched her leave with an amused smile.

-x-

“Potter—!”

“—yes, Harry, dear!”

Harry warily looked up, then took a small step backwards into the wall. It wasn't that he minded or even particularly disliked the Weasley twins, it was just that they were so unpredictable. “Fred, George?”

They grinned at him. Harry raised an eyebrow. “How would you feel, dearest Slytherin—”

“—about a friendly game of Quidditch?”

Harry blinked. “You know,” he murmured after a while, “I'm not suicidal, contrary to what you may believe.”

Fred shook his head, looking properly morose, and George closed his eyes, posing dramatically as if Harry had somehow broken his heart. “Oh, oh dear no…”

“It is truly regrettable.”

“Even so,” Harry said faintly. He squinted slightly. “Is that Wood?”

“Yes, yes—”

“—but we shall have to disappoint him now, dearest Slytherin. You see—”

“—we had thoughtlessly offered him the best Seeker, and now—”

“—you have declined an opportunity to play on his team.”

“I see,” Harry said dryly. “Even so, I didn't bring my broom, and I don't trust—”

“Harry.” Harry shut his mouth. Charlie walked between his brothers and grabbed the glass from Harry's hands, downing the juice. “Now, Harry—” Charlie wasn't quite glaring but Harry sensed he wasn't far from it, either. “—Why didn't you tell me _tomorrow_ was your birthday?”

“Um. Forgot?” He shrugged. “Why, is it important?”

“Impo— Harry…” Charlie sighed, gripping Harry's shoulders as he leaning down. “Of course it is.”

Afterwards Harry wasn't quite sure how it had happened, but in a matter of minutes he found himself harried outside and on a broom, and then he was flying next to Wood and Charlie and a Hufflepuff, acting Seeker for a make-shift team, opposing four Weasleys.

“Charlie—”

“Catch the Snitch before Ginny and I'll forget you never told me of your birthday.”

A playful smiled firmly in place, Harry nodded, and then he was gone, doubling over backwards and zooming away, a cursing Girl-Weasley hot on his tail. Minutes later, he was back, his smile wider and eyes sparkling as he gently pressed the squirming Snitch in Charlie's lax hand. “Forgiven?”

Charlie merely rolled his eyes. “Cheating bastard,” he muttered. “Someone hold onto Harry's broom while I let go of the Snitch and do a _proper_ countdown?”

“Oh, surely, Charlie—”

Charlie merely raised an eyebrow and stated, “ _You_ are not above cheating.”

“No. Neither are you, though,” Harry murmured.

[Next >>>](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/50967.html)   



	7. #6 | ribbons, 050

_**#6 | ribbons, 050**_  
 **Title** : _Requiem for a Dream, VI_  
 **Author** : [](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/profile)[**sa_kun**](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/)  
 **Pairing** : CWHP  
 **Rating** : M  
 **Summary** : Harry Potter met Charlie Weasley the day Hagrid decided they should have a closer look at dragons.  
 **Disclaimer** : I do not in any way own the Harry Potter Universe.  
 **Warnings** : AU, Homosexuality. Alludes to sex.  
 **Notes** : This is the last part, I think. They are part of the [Path Not Taken](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/25995.html#cutid1) universe that I'm writing in response to my 100quills table. You don't really need to read it, you just need to know that Harry's Slytherin, adopted by Professor Snape and was abused by his relatives.

[I](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/45576.html) | [II](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/45900.html) | [_interlude_](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/46221.html)| [III](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/46582.html) | [IV](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/50522.html) | [V](http://sa-kun.livejournal.com/50837.html) | VI |

“Shhhh...”

Harry tenses. His body is taut and he is mere seconds away from lashing out with the most raw form of his magic that he has never been able to completely control. There are warm hands stroking his back, and again the hushed murmur, “Shhh...” tries to cajole him into relaxing. Harry finds himself unable to.

He cannot see.

There is a blindfold tied over his eyes.

Harry strongly dislikes being restrained; it is a result of far too many occasions of being held down by bigger, meaner children and beaten and abused. Charlie knows this. Harry _knows_ Charlie knows that. Or at least, he had always hoped so. The hands that had slowly and gently massaged his back are suddenly withdrawn. Harry tenses up further.

The windows begin rattling, and then they are suddenly back again – the hands — combing through shaggy hair and stroking a tense neck. The windows fall silent. A kiss is pressed against his brow, lips warm and chapped and gentle. “Shhh,” again.

Harry's heart is pounding painfully in his chest. He wants to tear off the black ribbon – the blindfold.

He knows he cannot, however, and furthermore: that he _won't_. All because of a Gryffindor and their stupid honesty and their stupid disability to _not_ adhere to promises and empty threats. That does not truly explain why Harry has allowed this situation. Why he has allowed himself to be completely at Charlie's mercy. As if he trusts him.

Harry is still not sure if he can trust this man, this Dragon Keeper with a heart warmer than the fires spewing from the mouths of his beasts of passion, larger than their bodies… He knows that he craves this man, that he finds being at the centre of someone's attention ridiculously _warming_ and that he cannot think straight or even perform the simplest of tasks because his hands won't cease their trembling. That his heart is stuck somewhere in his throat. That his head feels so light, so light.

That he once found himself wearing one of Charlie's shirts that, _of course_ , was horribly ill-fitting on his frame, and that, _of course_ , when not buttoned properly would continuously threaten to slip down over a shoulder, over his hands. All so that Charlie could reverently, slowly, leisurely, passionately unbutton it and slip it off.

So that Charlie could show Harry _exactly_ how much Harry means to him and what his body does to him.

All because Harry wanted him to, but found himself unable to ask outright.

Which is why Harry now finds himself thoroughly incapable of denying Charlie; Harry figures that after all the trouble he puts the man through, giving in this once, this one time...letting himself be in this vulnerable state...

“Charlie.”

His voice is hushed and desperate and he can't stop himself from blindly reaching out. He pants once in relief as, almost at once, his hand his grasped and pulled to a warm, familiar chest. He can feel the heart beating strongly, rapidly, inside it, and knows that this, whatever it is, that it will somehow be all right. In the end.

This story is loosely continued in _[The Meredith Series](http://sa-kun.dreamwidth.org/1225.html)_.


End file.
